


not classy, just raunchy

by Basura Leche (artzypinkcow)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artzypinkcow/pseuds/Basura%20Leche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The unusual ritual of meeting in random towns had become too much of a habit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not classy, just raunchy

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this reads kinda rushed, I was just wanting to do some more of them and this is all I could get for now.

“Your hair’s longer.”

“Yeah,” Mikleo answers back, pulling a shirt over his head and walking out of the washroom. The inn’s room was small, but the bed was big so he wouldn’t complain that the bathtub wasn’t up to par from what he was use to. “That’s kinda what happens when you don't cut it for long periods of time.”

The unusual ritual of meeting in random towns had become too much of a habit, nights falling quick to passion. Every time was different, inns from run down to gald fueled, so long as the price was decent and no one in the area could recognize them. This inn was more on the modern side, probably usually used by travelers, not sex friends; it got classy folk, not raunchy.

Zaveid clicked his tongue from across the room, sitting on top of the bed and leaning against the headboard with his arms up and behind his head, waiting for the water seraph to finish up. He looked the youth up and down, gawking at the way loose strands of water managing to escape, running down his bare thighs.

It wasn’t the first time he saw Mikleo barely wear anything (when you fuck for endless amounts of time, you tend to be naked), but it always managed to make his blood boil just right.

Mikleo walked over, climbing on top of the bed, crawling towards Zaveid to straddle his hips. His finger tips hovered over from the older man’s abs, to his naked chest, coming to rest at his cheeks and let his fingers run through the seraph’s hair. Zaveid’s hair was thinner then his own, smooth to touch and never seeming to tangle. It always seemed to be the same length, but Mikleo wasn’t too sure he wanted to ever see it short. It just wouldn’t fit.

“You sure got a mouth on ya’ “ Zaveid chides, grabbing Mikleo’s wrists to pull away from his hair. He brings a wrist to his mouth, barely letting his lips brush against the cold skin, using his tongue to trail up and lick a finger.

Mikleo only watched in mild fascination, eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

Lips kissed the tip of each finger, slow, tantalizing. He felt Zaveid’s tongue glide along his skin in a teasing motion, small flickers of wetness that seemed to become more hypnotic with the passing seconds as he continued to watch.

Mikleo grinded his hips down, impatiens getting the better of him, feeling the bulge of Zaveid’s length rub back against him in return, kneading his lower lip with his teeth as his own cock felt the friction just below him. A languid moan escaped him, only removing his hand from the other’s grasp to slide wet fingers between his own legs.

Zaveid let his hands rest at Mikleo’s hips, pushing them to grind down for more pressure, thumbs smoothing over the bone of his pelvis. How a boy’s hips could be so pleasantly wide, Zaveid would never quite understand.

He seemed to have readied himself up enough, taken to licking the shell of Mikleo’s ear to send delightful shivers through his lean form. The water seraph stood on his knees, moving to take his underclothes off with one hand before continuing, then sitting all the way down, letting the bulge rest between the cheeks of his ass. He let his hips sway back and forth a bit, the feeling of jeans rubbing against him foreign to this part of his body.

Mikleo watches the way the older man’s auburn eyes flicked from his lilac eyes to his risen cock, the dot of precome becoming more obvious by the second.

There was a hot minute of silence before Mikleo gave in, finally unzipping Zaveid’s pants and pulling down undercloth. He watched as the cock sprung free, going to lean against a tanned naval.

With his wits seemingly vanishing before him, he uses the wet fingers to open himself up, the scissoring motion making him feel more surly then satisfied.

Zaveid chuckles, letting the fingers of one of his own hands follow Mikleo’s, delightful to see the tremble of need pass Mikleo’s body as another finger enters him without plead.

“Need some help?” Zaveid asks, smirking.

Mikleo barely has time to retort as Zaveid manages to guide his own fingers against his prostate.

Mikleo doesn’t remove his fingers, closing his eyes to concentrate on the feeling of his and Zaveid’s rubbing against his walls, spreading him open for the older man to enter much easier, hopefully soon.

The audible sound of wetness makes Zaveid feel harder, timing his wrist at a different tempo then Mikleo so the kid couldn’t catch a break.

Mikleo tries not to be loud, Zaveid wants to laugh and tell him to just let it all go.

Zaveid finally curls his fingers, forcing Mikleo’s to move forward, harshly pressing into his sweet spot. He watches intently, pace unmelodious with ever twist of his wrist.

The boy makes an effort to finally rise off Zaveid’s fingers, using his own tired hand to hold the wind seraph’s still. The warmth escalating at his lower abdomen begs him to not, and he is tempted to listen but takes a breath to cool.

Mikleo positions Zaveid’s cock at his entrance, moaning as the head breeches, taking the length in on his own time.

When he’s finally bottomed out, Mikleo glances to Zaveid, happy to see the older man’s gaze clouded with lust as his hands smoothed up and down Mikleo’s sides.

It takes a moment to adjust, ache giving way to pleasure as Mikleo lifts himself up and drops back down, groaning at the stretch.

Zaveid whistles lowly, wolfish grin in place as he shifts his hands to toy with Mikleo’s nipples.

“You’re really good at driving me mad,” he says, tongue running across his dry lips as he feels Mikleo drop down on top of him again. “Who taught you how to be such a good slut?”

At this, Mikleo glares and tightens, enjoying how Zaveid closes his eyes to moan at the sudden tightness.

Mikleo scrapes his finger nails over the older man’s chest. “I really don’t want to hear that from a guy who doesn’t wear a shirt and sticks guns down the back of his pants when he has perfectly good holsters.”

“Oh? Well…” Zaveid thrusts up without warning, Mikleo then throwing his head back for a loud moan at the deepness of it all.

“I think you’re cuter when you get fucked so hard you can’t talk.”

Mikleo swallows. “N-Nobody— _Nnnhhg ah_ … asked you…”

Zaveid just snickers, thumbing hardened nipples as he gives another harsh thrust that sends bright stars into Mikleo’s vision. Incoherence taking over his speech as he rides down fast.

Mikleo grips Zaveid’s shoulders, fingernails digging crescent shapes into stiff muscle.

It’s a few more rough thrusts before Mikleo comes, fingers pinching and rolling his nipples making the edge go off much longer.

Mikleo rests his head onto Zaveid’s chest, spent body limp as Zaveid gives a few more sporadic thrusts, pulling out to come onto his own stomach.

“A good fuck, just like always” Zaveid groans, satisfied and spent. The water seraph rolls off of him, laying against the mattress, sighing back as a response.

A hand comes to comb through Mikleo’s shoulder length hair, leaning into the touch and humming in content at the comfort. Zaveid rests on his elbow as he lets his fingers continue to run through soft locks of silver and blue.

“I think it’ll look good long,” is all he says.

Mikleo turns his head to give a small smile.

“Yeah, I think so too.”


End file.
